My Guardian Angel
by koalafantasy
Summary: your daily dose of a (slight) nerd, (very) wacky angel through an SPN oneshot. completely post-series. Warned for OC as main character.


"I do not wish to fight my brother again. Bring the two children to me as repent for your sins, Malachi, or you know what awaits you."

Michael's voice still rang in Malachi's ears. He was determined to finish the job and prove himself worthy as a soldier of Heaven, a normal garrison member. He had disgraced Heaven; and this was his only chance.

Ever since the Winchesters passed away in peace, the angels retreated. They became watchers once again. A lot of them died in conflicts, but they returned mysteriously. It's their father, they had said. Michael took over from Hannah and assumed leadership once more. They were stronger, once more, but some of them learnt from humanity. One, in particular. He learnt the virtues of loyalty, strong will, freedom and love. He spread the word to quite a few.

Malachi himself had no particular feelings for humanity. He would do whatever he can to bring the Toren brothers to his superior, dead or alive. He never questioned his orders, as most normal angels. Best to steer clear of being different. As he silently entered the two brothers' room, he realized someone else was waiting for him. Malachi knew the visitor too well. It was his former enemy, the one he once wanted to tear to shreds. But Malachi now chose peace. He would not kill his brother, unless the situation needs him to.

"Ah, Malchie. It's been a long time, eh?"

"Bartholomew, I am here to take the children to Heaven, on his orders. I am not here to discuss our personal matters."

"Well, buddy, you see, I don't quite agree with old Mike there. Our other brother- remember him? He's stirring. He deserves to get out and be part of us." Bart was smiling, but his wings slowly unfolded. Malachi's did, too. There would be some fighting here. He had to do his job first and settle other things later.

"Michael does not wish for more bloodshed, and neither do I, Bart. You know that."

"I'm sorry, bro, but if you have to step in my way-" Malachi could feel a soaring pain in his chest- "I'll be the first one to stop you." The tip of Bartholomew's blade stuck out on his chest, and Malachi slowly faded into darkness.

Bartholomew yanked his blade out and wiped it clean. He knew he had to make it fast- the older brother yelled before Bart knocked him unconscious. There would probably be sirens blaring any minute. He went to the younger one's bed. The kid was deep in his dreams, in an alternate reality he put him into. Smiling to himself, he zapped all three of them to a junkyard. The sword of Michael and Raphael ending like this. How pathetic. After making sure the kids were unconscious, hurt and probably won't wake up, he chuckled and teleported back to his vessel's house, vacating the body. Then he would return home and mourn for Malachi as the others do. He did care for little Malchie, after all. As for the kids and what to do when they wake up- well, to hell with them. It was none of his business anyway. It would take quite a lot more work to get Luci out of his own Cage.

Things didn't quite go as Bart wanted.

Jim was scared.

He witnessed a man killing his parents and trying to kidnap him in the middle of the night. Another guy suddenly came in and he knew his name; he called him James and wanted Jim to go willingly with him. The two guys were arguing. Jim couldn't understand most of the things they were talking about- something about them being brothers, releasing some weirdo. Then the men grew wings and the room lit up. The first guy killed the second one. Jim blacked out completely, and now he woke up in the middle of nowhere, with his older brother, Max, completely unconscious. Jim was a second grader, but he didn't zone out in all his classes. He remembered stuff from health class. He tried to stop both his and Max's bleeding with a whole new box of dumped cloth. Max was still breathing and he had a normal, strong pulse.

"Hello?" he yelled. Until that point, he was surprised by how calm he is, how the will of survival could change a person. Jim just broke; the silence shattered him. "Help! Someone help me!" His coarse, shrill little voice rang through the night. He had abandoned all hope. Then he thought he saw a shadowy figure in front of him, moving towards him. Jim slowly stood up, his legs still shaky, and put his older brother on his shoulders. He grunted. Max was heavier than he imagined. Jim moved slowly and steadily towards the shadow, dragging his brother along. The silhouette was his only ray of hope in the pitch black night. The man might have seen him, because he sped up towards Jim. He tried to do the same, but his body was failing him.

The boy collapsed to the ground with his brother by his side. The last thing he saw was a blurred image of the man's face.

The man had been by the two boys' bedside for days, waiting for them to wake up. On the third day, the younger brother woke. He shot out of bed and jumped off almost instantly. The man had to calm the kid down. The first thing he noticed was the boy's eyes. They were bright, electric blue and reminded him of an old friend. "Hey there, calm down buddy, I'm not gonna hurt you."

The kid was panicking. "Who- who are you?"

The man didn't reply. He had pressing matters at his doorstep, but he had to comfort the boy as well. In reply, he touched two fingers to the boy's wide forehead. His wounds and scars instantly vanished. The boy winced. An idea seemed to bounce into his mind, and he retreated, running to the back of the house. "Stay here, don't move, okay? I'll explain later." The boy nodded, even though still in shock.

The man knew it was one of his who did that to the kids. That would probably explain the banging at his door. He drew a blade from his jacket that he hadn't used in a long, long time. He didn't want to fight. It would draw unnecessary attention. All he knew was he had to protect the two boys at any cost. He hid the blade under his sleeve and put on a smile before swinging his front door open. Only one, with two henchmen. Now that was okay, he thought. Dressed as pizza guys. How weird. What kind of pizza takes three guys to deliver?

"I didn't order pizza. Wrong door," he said.

"You know why we are here. Bring us the two children, and you will be spared," the leader said, pressing his knife to the man's neck. The man had to try hard not to roll his eyes. Apparently, these guys still have a long way till Mensa. He caught hold of the hilt- stupid henchmen- and threw all three of the visitors to the kitchen wall. The leader was definitely shocked. The man saw it in his eyes. "You know who we are, and what we will do. Let me go, trickster."

"You can try," the man smiled. A snap of his fingers, and the leader's two companions disappeared. The man didn't want to expose his identity to too many, and he doubted he wanted to do that to the leader either- but the guy was so stubborn, the man wanted to teach him a lesson.

"The boys are of great importance to us. Let me go."

"Well, you know what? I don't care about whatever they mean to you. I only know that some irresponsible guy dumped two kids in the middle of nowhere, and I have to protect them. So get the hell out of my house. I can do the same thing I did to your buddies, bro." The man loosened his grip on the angel, but he started towards him instead and chunked a wooden stake into the man's chest. He gave the angel one of his deluxe dirty looks and yanked the stake out from his chest, tossing it back to him with a wry smile.

"That should have killed you," the angel stuttered. He was at a loss for words.

"See, I'm not _a_ trickster, shorty. I'm _the_ Trickster." The man laughed, but the expression on his face was deadly serious. His light eyes glowed, and soon he was radiating with light. The shadow of a pair of wings, at least twelve feet wide, stretched out behind him. The room fell silent.

"Gabriel."

"Now shut up and run. Oh, and tell old Mikey I say hi." The younger angel vanished immediately out of his sight. Gabriel smiled and tucked the unused blade back into his jacket. But then he realized the boy had been watching all this time. He turned back to him, who now sat on the floor, hugging his legs together, shaking slightly. He was crying. "Hey, I'm not gonna kill you. Come over here."

The boy relaxed a little. The wild look in his eyes was gone. He walked towards Gabriel, who gave the kid a huge hug. Gabriel always liked kids. He hadn't felt such care, love and affection for ages- ever since he left Heaven and started a new life as Loki, later the Trickster. "I'm Jim," the boy mumbled. "Are you really an angel?"

"Yep."

"So angels are real," the kid- Jim- murmured to himself.

"Very."

"Gabriel, can I tell you something? You have to keep it a secret." Jim stared at Gabriel with those wide, blue eyes, and he nodded. "Some angels want me. One of them- the other guy called him Bart or something- he killed Mom and Dad."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Dad wasn't a great dad to us either, and Mom's never home." Jim paused. Losing parents at such a young age- it could crush a kid, and he knew that too well. Jim looked down at the floor, then returned his gaze to Gabriel. "Can I call you Gabe?" asked Jim hesitantly.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at Jim, who laughed. "Why not?" He smiled at Jim, who was now grinning. "Let's go check on your brother. He's gotta be awake, that sleepyhead." Gabriel lifted Jim onto his shoulders, and he felt the little hand holding tight onto him. But most importantly, he felt happiness. True, pure happiness, not just by pranking people and giving them the ending they deserved. And it was a feeling that had abandoned him for so long.


End file.
